The Man Who Has Everything
by vinvalen
Summary: Vincent is in a quandary over Cid's upcoming birthday, and calls in Reno as backup.


Vincent is in a quandary over Cid's birthday, and calls in Reno for backup.

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Totally AU, influenced heavily by the idea of them all living happily ever after.

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Vincent paced. Every so often he would pause and glare at the calendar; which only served to agitate him further. A certain date kept staring back at him; a date that was now less then three weeks away; and still Vincent had no idea what he was going to do about it.

Cid's birthday.

What _does_ one give a man who had everything? "A trash can to put it all in," Sephiroth had suggested dryly when Vincent had voiced the thought in his presence, and had proceeded to provide one the very first year they had all celebrated Cid's birthday together. The pilot had thought it hilarious considering the source, willing to take the gift at face value until urged to open it. Inside had been another wrapped package, a beautifully crafted antique compass which now held pride of place on the _Highwind's_ bridge.

"You're a former Turk, Valentine…get a grip and _think_ like one," he berated himself.

"_What does Cid like?"_

The pilot was a man of simple tastes. The things he enjoyed, he enjoyed with every fiber of his being. Vincent smiled, calling to mind some of those truly memorable occasions…and inspiration struck. With a most undignified and un-Vincent-like chortle, the gunman powered on his computer and settled himself to research.

And there it was. Simple and elegant of design, sure to appeal to Cid's sense of aesthetics, and truly a gift that would keep on giving.

It even looked like it would be within the range of Vincent's abilities. He had, after all, both watched and helped Cid around the airships often enough to have a solid grasp of the basic skills he would need to make the thing a reality. He would, however, need some help. He reached for the phone, bringing up a number on speed dial. Vincent's enthusiasm for the project was such that he launched right in as soon as he heard it picked up from the other end.

"Reno? Can you keep a secret?"

"Yo, man…you know them's fightin' words to a Turk… have you forgotten who you're talking to?" Still, Vincent could hear the grin in Reno's voice. "What's on your mind, Vin?"

"Cid's birthday….and I need some backup. Do you have your computer on?"

"Yeah…sitting at it now, actually."

"Good…I'm sending you a link. I want to build this, but I'm going to need a few things. I'm relatively sure Cid has most of this stuff in storage, but as sure as I tried to sneak off with anything…it would be like trying to slip daylight past a chocobo. The man is positively uncanny when it comes to his inventory. I doubt I could get out of there with so much as a wing nut without him finding out." All during this statement, Vincent had been delicately tapping out commands on the keyboard with a single golden claw. "Sending…_now_."

There was a pause on the other end as Reno waited for the message to come through, but Vincent knew exactly when it did, because there was a long, low whistle of appreciation when the screen displayed the link the gunman had sent.

"Oh, _yo_…that's _beautiful_. Damn. I knew you shoulda married me when you had the chance…then _I'd_ be the one getting birthday presents like this!"

Vincent snorted, laughing. "I'm flattered…I _think_. Then it's doable?"

"Oh, yeah. I've even seen one kinda like this in action. There's an old guy near Kalm that has one. Want to hop over and take a look?"

"Perfect…Cid has an early run to Mideel tomorrow, with a layover. Would that be too soon?" Vincent asked, hopefully. He was beginning to feel as if the gods themselves were guiding his efforts, and perhaps they were.

"Perfect. I'll be there by ten. With any luck, I'll have a lead on some parts by then, too."

"Thanks, Reno…I really owe you for this."

Reno laughed. "Vin, if you manage to pull this off, I'll be well paid indeed. Seeya in the morning."

******

The trip went better than they could have imagined.

The man, whose name Vincent learned was Aber, was out in his fields. He eyed them suspiciously as Reno sat the chopper down in a nearby clearing, but greeted them readily enough when he recognized Reno's brilliant hair. The old man walked with a slight limp. His features were weathered by the elements, his hair sun-bleached to a shade nearly white. But most striking was the air about him that spoke of solidity; of generations living close to the land, as if he himself was rooted there. The golden grain of his fields waved gently around them in the bright day, and they spoke easily after Reno had made the introductions. Vincent quickly explained their purpose.

"This un's a good man," Aber said to Vincent, nodding toward Reno. "Hadn't been for him, I wouldna be here talkin' to yer."

Reno; tough, abrasive Reno of the Turks, shuffled his feet. He ducked his head; nudging at a pebble with his shoe, his face taking on a rosy color only a few shades lighter than his hair. "Nothin' anybody else would'na done," he replied, not looking up.

Vincent, intrigued, turned a questioning look upon the old farmer. It was obvious Aber was hinting at a story worth hearing. If Vincent had guessed correctly, the tale was significant because it would have taken place in a time when Reno had been considered the enemy.

"Was out here finishin' up th' last of th' harvestin'" the farmer replied, as if Vincent had questioned him aloud. He shook his head. "Shoulda brung th' chocobos with me, an' I'd have had warnin', but I was usin' th' truck that day.

"Anyway…a couple of monsters had me down, movin' in for the kill. One had already opened up my leg, an' I was bleedin' bad. Then this 'un came in from nowhere, like. Barely head-high over the ground, but he drove 'em off. Then he come back and set his bird down pretty as you please in the row I'd just cleared. Jumped out, grabbed a kit and tended to me right then and there. The big bald guy with him watched t' make sure nothin' come back while he was workin' on me. When he got th' bleedin' slowed, they put me in there and flew me over to th' village. Later, I found out they'd went and told my neighbor what happened, an' he got the rest of my grain in while I was laid up." The old man smiled at Reno, who had sidled away; trying to appear as if the farmer's story had nothing to do with him at all. The farmer merely grinned, raising his voice to a level Reno could not ignore. He even chuckled softly when Reno hunched his shoulders and shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

"Never thought I'd have ennathing good to say about the Shinra people, but kept this leg, and my life, too 'cause of them, and that's a big debt for a man to owe."

"Didn't come here collectin' " Reno mumbled, still blushing.

"I know that, young'un" the farmer replied quietly. "But I finally got my chance ta' brag on yer in fron' of yer friend, an that's good enough for me. Now, th' both of yer come on up to th' house an' have a drink wi' me, and tell me what I can do fer yer."

The visit was something Vincent would forever count as one of his favorite memories. Not only did the old farmer show off his handiwork as they had hoped, but also gave Vincent a detailed description of the entire process that would save the gunman a great deal of trial and error.

Constrained for time, the visit finally came to conclusion; but not before they had come up with the idea of bringing Aber to inspect Vincent's finished project and having him test the device. In order to keep the secret from Cid, they'd decided Vincent would work on the project at Reno and Cloud's house, and sneak it home on the day of Cid's birthday.

The big day finally came. Reno had arranged for Cid to be called away by Tseng on the pretext of an urgent and unavoidable delivery run; and Cid, cursing under his breath, took off in the Tiny Bronco. Everything and everyone was in place when Cid arrived back home that evening, including Aber; for Vincent had insisted the old farmer not miss the end result of all his generous assistance. The old man was adamant about not showing up without a gift in spite of Vincent's protests that he had already contributed more than abundantly to the success of the venture; and Aber supervised the loading of two crates into Reno's chopper before they took off. He chattered the entire way, amazed at the opportunity "of flyin' when I'm in good enough shape to appreciate it." He had only fallen silent when they arrived at Cid and Vincent's home and he found himself surrounded by a group of people who had become legend.

Zack and Reno soon had him chattering away again, and it was upon this happy scene that Cid walked in, still rather grumpy about having his special day interrupted. He noted Aber's presence, but thought nothing of it; people were always dropping by on business and whoever he was, Vincent would not have been impolite and turned him away. Cid would make a few moments to speak to the man later on.

When he spotted Tseng in his favorite armchair, smiling with the smug satisfaction only a master of subterfuge could display, he grinned sheepishly; acknowledging he'd been well and truly 'had'. Tseng raised his glass in salute. "Happy Birthday, Highwind."

The furniture of the large living room had been rearranged to accommodate Vincent's gift. It stood proudly in the corner, draped with sheets, waiting to be unveiled. There were more gifts piled on the floor in front of the oddly-shaped thing with its makeshift covering; Aber's crates resting proudly among them. Cid was warmed by his friends' thoughtfulness as they began congratulating him; soon urging him to cut the truly impressive cake Aerith had made.

Later, when everyone had had a slice of the cake, and in Rude's case, _three_ slices, Tseng wandered over to peruse the pile of gifts. He leaned down and chose his own from among them, bringing it over for Cid to unwrap.

The pilot didn't disappoint him. Cid, when it came to gifts, was like a child; and that more than any other reason, was why his friends loved to indulge him. The wrappings were quickly torn away to reveal a box of fine Mideel cigars; and Cid quickly pulled Tseng into a bear hug for his thoughtfulness.

His other gifts were soon opened also, and Cid had to clear his throat several times as he thanked them for the generosity they had displayed. At last, all that remained were Aber's crates and the mysterious 'presence' in the corner. All during the evening, Cid had meant to speak to their visitor; but each time the pilot had started to approach Aber, one or another of his friends deliberately distracted him.

But at last the moment came for the unveiling.

"I made it myself," the gunman said almost shyly; from where he was snuggled against Cid's side. "But I couldn't have done it without a lot of help."

"Ya made somethin' for _me_?" Cid was more touched than he could find words to express. Vincent, for all his remarkable abilities, still doubted himself far too often in Cid's thinking. He leaned down for a kiss, which brought forth a blush from Vincent, and an assortment of laughter, whistles, and catcalls from the others. "Then I _know_ I'm gonna love it," Cid whispered in the gunman's ear before releasing him. He moved to pull the sheeting away from his gift and stood speechless; staring at the elegant coils, gleaming copper and stainless steel. A great deal of cheering and laughter accompanied the unveiling, but Cid was oblivious to it.

His mouth opened and closed soundlessly several times, his eyes misting over as he ran a reverent hand over its surface, looking from his gift to Vincent and back again. "…You _made_ this? Oh, babe…if you only knew how long I've wanted one, but never had the time…_Thank you!_" He pulled Vincent close again; swooping in for an extremely passionate kiss, which set off another round of raucous teasing from their audience. When the noise level settled once more, Aerith's voice, betraying extreme confusion, piped up from where she sat next to Tifa.

"But_ what is it_?"

Cid's answering grin seemed as if it would split his face; and his arm was again firmly wrapped around Vincent.

"_That_" Cid replied almost dreamily, still gazing upon the contraption, "is one of the greatest examples of human creativity the planet has ever known…and dedicated solely to the sublime nectar known as _barley juice_."

"A _still,_" Zack piped up helpfully from the background.

Aerith just shook her head, no more enlightened than before. Beside her, Tifa dissolved into hysterics and leaned heavily on Barret.

Reno came to the rescue, waving for Cid's attention. "Give the lady a visual aid, yo!" he chortled; pointing to the crates.

Cid bent down to open his final gift, brushing aside the straw in which the bottles had been so carefully packed. He withdrew one; smiling upon it in appreciation. The label proudly proclaimed:

'_Aber's 100 Proof"_ and below, in smaller letters, _'10 Generations of Fine Whiskey'_

Cloud and Zack practically dived into the kitchen for glasses as Cid began plying Aber for pointers on the fine art of whiskey-making; while Sephiroth pulled Vincent aside to ask him about helping build one for Zack. The first two bottles of Aber's gift were soon empty.

But that was alright, too. There would always be plenty to go around.


End file.
